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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28011186">Fire burns brighter in Snow.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GungnirStar/pseuds/GungnirStar'>GungnirStar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aegon and Rhaenys Targaryen Live, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Female Character, Height Differences, House Targaryen Family Fluff (ASoIaF), Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon Snow's Name is Jaehaerys, King Rhaegar Targaryen, Modern Era, Modern Royalty, Multi, Polyamory, Queen Elia Martell, Queen Lyanna Stark, Show!Tormund, Trans Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:41:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,807</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28011186</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GungnirStar/pseuds/GungnirStar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon Snow had moved away from King's landing to eastwatch for his degree. He'd left behind his old life, and old gender to have a fresh start. Unfortunate circumstances force him to return home before formally coming out to most of his family. </p>
<p>And of course, the implications of his royal blood once he returns to the small university town he'd come to know as home.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elia Martell/Lyanna Stark, Elia Martell/Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen, Khal Drogo/Daenerys Targaryen, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Tormund Giantsbane/Jon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Eastwatch by Sea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jon kept his head down, he focused on his studies, and on his community work. He was studying in Eastwatch, as far north as he could go to escape familial duties and anyone who might have known him as anyone else. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When he left King’s landing, leaving his father and mothers to go about with whatever they did when he wasn’t there, he only told his aunt Dany, and his mama Elia. Together they devised his new name. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jon for his godfather, Snow for the traditional surname of bastards of the North. Jaehaerys Targaryen on paper.  There were enough Snows in the world that nobody would question him. Armed with a new wardrobe thanks to his cousin Robb and his brother Aegon’s cast offs, he arrived and threw himself readily into his work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was studying Politics and Social Geography. He wanted to learn as much as he could to be able to return and better Westeros for everyone. But he wanted to earn his grades, not just be given them for who his family was. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, they wouldn’t believe who he was anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everyone knew Visenya Targaryen was an average sized girl favouring her mother’s looks and had her father’s eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he wasn’t Visenya, and he’d known he wasn’t Visenya for quite some time. When he was younger it was easily dismissed as the wolf blood, his mother had been the same in her youth, or so they’d say. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t Visenya. He wasn’t a Princess, he was just a man who wanted to do good in the world. By the time classes had started in Eastwatch he’d started to pass full time, the barest scruff of facial hair on his face. In the summer break of his first year he’d had his top surgery, and returned to the course feeling much lighter and focused in his second year. And now, as he was readying himself for his final year, he was determined that his work would make a change in the country.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jon snow was a serious boy, if a little short, but his dark hair and looks made him as familiar as any northerner, and he didn’t stand out too much. If you looked too closely, you’d see that his eyes were a dark purple. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His flatmate Satin was just as estranged from northern culture as he was, if not moreso. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Satin was the only person who knew who his family was, who he’d been before moving here. And he didn’t care. He took the name Satin for a reason, after all. It was only natural for them to bond. The two dark haired queers, they’d joke to one another. Most people thought they were brothers, if they didn’t account for the fact that they looked totally different beyond the dark hair, and acted even more differently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Satin was very well groomed, tall and slinky, he loved his expensive oil based colognes, his silk bedsheets, his well fitting suits and high end dinners with rich men. He loved the sugar baby lifestyle, and it suited him well enough. Jon knew he had left his last relationship when he moved here, trying to get away from what was undoubtedly a sticky situation. He was a natural charmer, and got on well with everyone. Jon was sure he’d have been very happy in the reach, or in King’s landing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon was short, slim despite the muscle he’d worked hard to build up, and let his curly hair grow to his shoulders, his beard was barely tamed once it came in. He wore second hand stuff mainly, or handmade things. He had the money, after all, to not shop in charity stores and take that away from those who were more in need. He owned the apartment he and Satin lived in, he donated fifty dragons a month to the homeless shelters for women and children, and a further twenty to the soup kitchens. As well as volunteering there every weekend, and helping teach the women skills like basic accounting so they’d have better job prospects. He wasn’t the best at talking to people, he was very brusque at times, but in the north they seemed to prefer that. He liked that. </span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jon found himself almost nodding off in the library, his eyes half lidded as he read. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wakey wakey, Snow. Don’t fall asleep on that book.” Came a familiar rough voice. His head snapped up, seeing the familiar and </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> attractive campus security guard sitting down opposite him. Jon rubbed his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I uh, didn’t sleep much last night. Satin had a friend over.” He confessed sheepishly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tormund was...Everything Jon wanted, in short. He had nearly a foot in height over him, was strong, bold, and oh so ginger. His smile was as blinding as fresh snow in the morning sun, and his dirty jokes would make even Satin blush. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As much as I’d love to hear the details of your award winning cocksucker flatmate, there’s a lady at the front desk asking for you.” Tormund replied, before winking to Jon. “I told her I’d see if you were here. Says she’s your aunt, but she looks more like a blizzard.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jon bolted upright, and quickly shoved his books into his bag, practically vaulting over the desk to hurry out to the front. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as he saw his aunt, he launched himself at her, and naturally they both slipped on the floor, the slush having been walked in by students and tutors alike. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seven hells!” His aunt swore quietly, before hitting his arm lightly. “You’re too heavy, get off of me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jon was more than aware of Tormund and Mance’s guffaws as he carefully detangled himself from his aunt, and then helped her up to her feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry I just- I haven’t seen you in two years! What are you doing here?” He asked, wincing when he realised he’d gotten brown and black sludge on her white coat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you wanted to be left completely in peace while here but...You have to come home. I…” She glanced around, only seeing the two northmen peering eagerly at them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your uncle died. He’s being buried in three days time. I promised your father I’d come and get you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>An icy pit opened deep in his stomach then. His eyes went wide and he took a step back, bumping against the security desk. “I...I can’t. I mean. Jon Snow can’t. I don’t have a valid passport.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I brought your jet.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry did she just say </span>
  <em>
    <span>your jet</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!” Tormund asked, leaning across the counter, head next to Jon’s. “Skelm be cursed, who are you that you have your own jet, Jon Snow?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“His real surname is Targaryen.” Mance muttered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Obviously.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tormund’s eyes went wide, and he looked at Jon, and then back to Daenerys, and then Jon again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Prince Jon is a shitty name.” He decided, before Dany cleared her throat again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Point is, we need to go back. You’ll have two days before the public might see you, so you can go over everything you’ve done with your father.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...I” He stumbled for words, feeling the blood drain from his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll drive you to the airport if you’d like.” Tormund offered, bright grin on his face. Jon turned, and the ice in his stomach cracked, and instead was more like a stone pulling him under the water. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That would be lovely ser…?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not a ser, just Tormund. Deputy head of security. Mance is the big boss. Hey, Mance can I escort the magpies to the airport and fulfil my duty of something or another.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The older man just snorted and nodded. “Sure, escort his and her highnesses to the airport.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I need to pack a bag, I don’t have-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you’ll just run and hide somewhere else.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>By this point, Jon was aware of the speculative glances from the students walking by, a couple on their phones.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Is that Daenerys Targaryen? The Princess? Princess Daenerys is in our school! Why is she talking to him? Is he someone important?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed, and buried his face in his hands. His aunt tiptoed to pull him into a hug. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Your mothers miss you, so does your father. I’ll protect you, I promised I would.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re the same age, I could protect you.” He muttered, earning a small laugh from her. Tormund placed a hand on both of their shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t mean to break up what I’m sure is a cockle warming family reunion, but these dobbers are just gonna get more annoying the longer you stand here. Let’s shift out of here.” The man suggested, and the Targaryens nodded, letting him guide the way to his truck in the car park. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The drive was tense, awkward. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tormund tried to make a bit of chatter here and there, and Dany replied when she understood what he was trying to suggest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were driving to Wintertown, the closest airport. It would take hours, at least. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So uh, Jon. How comes I never heard of Prince Jon, anyway?” Tormund finally asked, cutting through the tension and silence like a knife. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because my birth name isn’t the same as Jon.” He replied quietly, fists clenched so his knuckles were white against his black hoodie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“His real name is Jaehaerys.” Daenerys quickly supplied, and he internally thanked every god, old and new for her quick thinking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See now that’s a royal name! I knew there was something special about you. Nobody is that pretty and that kind, and charitable without being royal.” Tormund laughed, reaching over to pat his shoulder playfully. Dany just watched amused from the back seat, and Jon wished the ground would swallow him up, furlined coat and all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kind and charitable?” His aunt asked in a sweet voice, which Jon knew meant trouble for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh aye! He works with the homeless, and he paid my sweet little sister to fur-line his coat, since he wasn’t warm enough. Paid her more than she asked for, which meant that she could get the damp in our apartment fixed. I pay the rent and the bills there, you see, and she covers the groceries. But feeding two adults and paying all the bills on time means that there’s not much aside for the more important repairs, the more costly ones. But that little princeling over there? Meant we could fix the damp, and get the windowsills covered again. Proper charitable one.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s funny, I distinctly remembering that those funds were meant to be put aside to help Jon buy books and equipment for his studies.” Aunt Dany commented, cocking a brow. The young man went red, and Tormund just laughed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, it does help his studies! It’s important for him to get good grades on his thesis after all! He was telling his chubby friend how he’s writing a paper about the socioeconomic something something about how the north grows slower than every other kingdom, and how it can be uhhhh fixed. I’m pretty sure that’s what it was anyway.” Tormund explained, shifting gear and then glancing back at the serene woman in the backseat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. ‘How do socioeconomic patterns of personal wealth and social class influence the personal wellbeing of those living north of Winterfell.’ You had it about right, though Tormund. I didn’t realise you paid so much attention to that sort of stuff.” Jon looked over at the tall ginger man.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, it’s hard not to listen to you, everyone listens to you.” Tormund replied a little bashfully. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The car lapsed into silence once more, and Jon found himself focusing on picking fluff off of his coat instead. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How old are you, Tormund?” Dany asked after a few more moments.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Twenty seven. I think I’m a little out of your age range though, your highness.” He joked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m engaged anyway. That doesn’t matter to me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re engaged? Why didn’t you tell me?” Jon asked, feeling a little hurt now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s all rather rushed. He’s from Essos, he’s the equivalent of a king over there. And he’s thirty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She ignored Jon’s scandalised look, considering that she and her nephew were both twenty-one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, don’t leave us hangin’ your highness, tell us all about the lucky man so that your little crow can thoroughly interrogate him when they meet!” Tormund quickly supplied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s a Khal, his name is Drogo. He’s very intense, and passionate. I love him, truly I do.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Khal? What’s that mean?” Tormund’s brows furrowed. He didn’t know much of other cultures beyond northern Westeros. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s a member of the Dothraki empire. He controls a huge amount of land, and so many people are loyal to him. He has a palace in the Dothraki city, and in Pentos. We met in Pentos, when I was meeting with one of the magisters, and I had gotten lost in the marketplace. Someone tried to steal my bag, and this man stepped in the thief’s way, growled in Dothraki and the thief nearly wet himself with fear. Then, he escorted me to his Manse. One of his translators explained that he had never seen the moon captured in a person’s body before, which was why he’d helped me. When I realised he was a Khal I was...well, I was very surprised. Because why would a Khal show interest in some Westerosi woman? But he was smitten. He only knew the word ‘no’ in our language, so we worked on it from there with the translator. He offered to take me to dinner, and I agreed. Then, he put me on a silver horse and we rode to a small Dothraki restaurant, and spent the night talking and drinking. Oh...He’s so wonderful. I’m going to be the happiest woman when we’re married, I know it.” When she finally stopped, they were held at a set of traffic lights, so Jon and Tormund both turned to look at her, the flush on her cheeks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon offered her a small smile, while Tormund beamed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I’m sure he’s a good enough man! But if he hurts you, just tell Jon and we can come and sort him out, can’t we?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We?” Jon asked, brows raising.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well yes of course ‘we’. You can’t win a fight on your own, you need a little help because you’re so small.” He teased. “I’ll knock them onto their knees, and you do the hard work. I know you’ve got a mean right hook!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now this is a story I want to hear, Jon. Tormund, who did he punch?” She asked, leaning forward as they started driving once more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So this was in his very first term. One of the lecturers was fond of messing with the students, bullying them. We’d had complaints before but no evidence so we couldn’t do anything. He decided that Jon was his new target, and called him some sort of nasty name, or said something about his mother, and Jon knocked him clean out with one hit! I was so impressed I didn’t even report it to anyone. Of course, the professor didn’t see it that way, but Chancellor Aemon saw to it that finally the professor lost his job. Too right!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Chancellor Aemon? Aemon Targaryen, you mean?” Dany asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yes, he took one look at the way Jon’s face was set, and the black eye and bloodied nose of Professor Thorne that he dismissed Thorne on the spot. Not bad for a half-blind old man!” Tormund beamed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t even realise great-uncle Aemon still worked. I thought he was retired.” Daenerys chuckled, reaching forward to ruffle Jon’s hair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I suppose that’s why he was so willing to believe Jon. If he’s family, an’ all.” Tormund rationalised. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes...He said I looked just like my father when he was in a black rage. And that if I’d been brought to that point, then I was perfectly justified in that rage. And then he asked me to write a paper on the problems that come with enacting violence in response to anger... I’d do it again, though.” He added, after a moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And that was when I really noticed you, who else would have the balls to take out a lecturer like that? Not many people, that’s for sure. Aye, that’s how you know someone’s worth the attention.” Tormund explained. Jon was quiet for a moment before letting out a small chuckle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, if that’s how you feel who am I to say no to you offering to help me beat up my uncle-to-be.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Which just earnt another loud, full belly laugh from Tormund. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the drive flowed easier, until they pulled up at the airport, and Jon felt that ice creep back up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He got out of the truck, and went to help his aunt out into the snow. Tormund got out, turned off the truck and watched them both with a curious expression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Before I forget, please allow me to pay for your fuel, since you were so kind as to escort my nephew and I all the way here. Will one hundred dragons cover it?” Dany offered, already fishing the money from her purse. Before Tormund could even protest or explain the fuel price, she pushed the hundred into his hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll give you another hundred if you can drive Jon back after the funeral.” She added, pulling even more money out. Jon knew for a fact she knew the fuel costs, but she was nothing if insistent. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon looked at Tormund, knowing that this money would make a difference in one way or another. Tormund stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder gently, giving it a little squeeze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here’s my number. If you want someone to come and rescue you, just message and I’ll break down every door in that castle and come to get you.” Tormund promised, holding out his phone with the numbers on the screen. Jon fumbled for his phone and saved his contact details, before looking up at Tormund. He felt a little shy, now. This was the longest he’d been around Tormund, and his crush was most certainly not going anywhere anytime soon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tormund just smiled, and gestured with his head. “Your scary hot auntie isn’t going anywhere. You’d better get on that plane. I’m afraid she’ll set fire to me if I don’t do what she says.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jon laughed, and stepped away from Tormund, following Daenerys onto his jet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watched as Tormund waved them off, until the big ginger was just a spot on the ground. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So how long have you been dating him?” Daenerys asked, a catlike smile on her face. He spluttered, and then shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never. I’ve not- we’re not. I’ve not even kissed him! I don’t have that sort of relationship with him, I swear.” Jon quickly insisted, waving his hands insistently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well he wants to kiss you. Very thoroughly. I can tell.” She replied, a playful smirk on her face. “Sleep, take a little nap. Jon Connington will meet us at the airport and drive us home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Before I do...What happened. To Viserys?” Jon asked quietly. He hated his uncle, Dany hated his uncle. Nobody else really saw it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He had an unfortunate slip at my husband’s Manse in Pentos. After he called my husband several racial slurs and said if I got pregnant with a ‘mongrel’ he would cut it from my stomach.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon knew that she wasn’t sorry at all for her horrid brother’s demise. He found he felt no sorrow over the matter too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good. I’d not shed a tear for him. He was always a bully and a beast. An accident was bound to happen one day.” Jon muttered, before he took his coat off, using it as a blanket as he napped in the seat.</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Waking up and heading into the car was the worst thing that day. He didn’t want to go home. He could feel himself panicking already. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What was worse was that the car was already occupied. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello little brother.” Rhaenys cooed as soon as he climbed inside the car. Jon winced, sitting beside her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi Rhaenys…” He mumbled, feet fixed on the floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your beard is very becoming. Aegon will be so jealous, he can’t grow one no matter how hard he tries. “But Jon is such a common name.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s Jaehaerys. But when I’m studying I go by Jon so nobody will know who I am.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now that’s much better. It’s a shame you had to come back under these circumstances though…” Rhaenys added, before pulling him into a hug. She was smaller than him, taking after her mother in stature. He returned the hug gladly, pressing his face into her shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s mama, father, and mother?” He asked, once they’d separated, the car making the drive from the airport to the royal palace. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh Mama misses you, and keeps covering for your absence. Mother pretends she doesn’t know anything, and father is father. Being king is more like a boring chore to him, after all. He wishes he could just play music all day.” She shook her head. “He’s making Aegon do the reading at uncle Viserys’ funeral while he plays the music.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, if he’s getting Aegon ready to take the throne, it’s better that he starts making these sorts of appearances now.” Jon reasoned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Speaking of facing the music, I’ll have father, mama, and mother meet you in the solar, instead of the throne room.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks. I...I don’t know how I’ll do this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a dragon. You’ll face it head on and win.” Dany reassured him from Rhaenys’ other side. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jon nodded, hoping she was right. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The room was silent as Rhaenys and Daenerys entered, with Jon a couple of steps behind them. His aunt and sister went to sit down, leaving him under his father’s scrutiny. Elia wheeled over, and reached up to hug him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mama” He mumbled, as he returned the hug tightly, hoping his shaking would be diminished, or at least hidden in part by her wheelchair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay, little magpie. He won’t be angry about this.” She reassured him quietly, and he felt a little tension drain from his body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pulled away, cupping his cheek. “You look so much like your father did at this age.” She makes sure that her voice is loud enough that his father would hear it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Jon looked up, his mum and dad were stood, confusion crossing their faces. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Visen-” Rhaegar started, but Elia shot him a sharp look. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jaehaerys has come back for the funeral, my loves. As you asked our little sweetling Dany to get him, that’s exactly what she did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You knew?” His dad asked her, and she nodded simply. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know everything that goes on here, my love. I arranged for all his documentation to allow him to study and transition at his own rate. And I will continue to do so, because my son’s happiness is the most important thing in this.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I knew too.” Aunt Dany piped up, impish smile on her face. “I helped with some paperwork! We really ought to reform our social system better, though.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon was so happy for his aunt’s presence and support, and for his mama’s fierce protective streak. She kept hold of his hand, and gave it a little reassuring squeeze. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve certainly put your foot in it. How are we going to explain your coming out right at Viserys’ funeral?” His mum joked, elbowing his dad now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, light of my life, my winter rose, my spring snow...We simply make a statement when questioned, make sure that everyone knows that newspapers who make a show of misgendering him will feel the full effect of the laws against hate speech, and that we support our youngest son’s life choices, because he’s an adult and we support the rights of all LGBTQ people within the kingdom. We will contact your brother, and make sure he and his wife will give statements that support him, which will win over the more conservative members of the public.” Elia clearly had planned this for enough time that Jon felt comfortable enough with the knowledge it’d work. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Everyone out. Now. Except for Jaehaerys.” His dad finally spoke, and Jon could feel the ice building in his stomach again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But they all left, as asked of them, with Rhaenys signing to him that she would be waiting just outside the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once alone in the solar with his father, Jaehaerys stood still, like he were frozen by ice as his father slowly circled him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He bit back the terror as his father inspected him closely, knowing the way those dark eyes would be taking note of everything. Then, he stopped, looking him over once more and offered a small smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I knew you’d always be the problem child. Too much wolf blood.” His dad teased, and then opened his arms for a hug. The younger man gladly fell into the familiar embrace, pressing his face against his father’s chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know how to tell you I couldn’t be the little princess.” He whispered. His dad’s hand came to rest on the back of his head, and he pressed his face closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay. Your existence is the greatest joy any father could have. It doesn’t matter if you’re Visenya or if you’re Jaehaerys. I love you for existing. Where have you been since you left?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve been studying for a degree. In Eastwatch. I’m learning Politics and Social Geography. So I can provide meaningful changes to our kingdom from a position of real understanding. I volunteer at the homeless shelters and help with victims of domestic abuse. Like you did, when you were younger in Flea Bottom and Summerhall.” He explained. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s your thesis about? Are you romantically entangled with anyone?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do socioeconomic patterns of personal wealth and social class influence the personal wellbeing of those living north of Winterfell. No romances right now, but my flatmate is a gay man who has many uh, flings.” It could be a problem if people came forward and suggested he had been the one having the flings, but no. It was Satin. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And do you have many friends at your school?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, well there’s Samwell Tarly. He’s a prodigy, studying medicine and wants to open up a clinic to help treat the people of Eastwatch. Satin, my flatmate is from Oldtown and studying literature. Gendry Waters, he’s not a student but he’s a good mechanic and handyman. Ygritte, she’s the younger sister of one of the security staff at the university, she helps with the theatre and sound students. Edric Dayne came up there to study Sociology, where nobody would know him too. People often ask if we’re cousins on account of our eyes. And he dyed his hair black to match Ashara’s, so they think there’s some close relation.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His dad simply nodded, assessing him in that quiet, restrained way he always assessed any challenge. And then he seemed to electrify, hurrying to his desk, digging out a sheet of music. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Finally, I can finish your name day song. It wasn’t flowing right, of course it would be because the ancient magics were trying to tell me something was wrong with using your old name.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaehaerys just sighed fondly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will take my leave now, if I may?” He asked, and his father simply nodded, scribbling notes on the paper. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His father was a little eccentric at times, but he was a good man. Truly, he was. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as he stepped out of the room, his mum dragged him into a fierce hug, pressing kisses all over his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You had me so worried you little turd! Running off into the dark without even a text! Why I ought to dangle you by your ankle out the window!” She scolded him, but he could see the happiness and relief in her eyes all the same. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry mum. It’s your fault I’m like this, you’re the one who encouraged the wild streak in us.” He replied, causing a small laugh to bubble from her, despite the attempt to be a stern and angry mother for a moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should send you to bed without any tea, but that wouldn’t be very fitting for a prince now, would it?” She grinned, running her fingers through his dark curls. “Oh, you look so much like your father. So thoughtful, but that dark hair? Means you’re not twins. And of course, you can’t carry a note in a bucket.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wife, let me have a turn teasing our baby.” His mama finally interjected, and after a moment he was released into the Dornish woman’s grasp. “You look ever so mature now, and you finally fit your nose right.” She decided, before humming. “I will do your hair for the funeral, your mum and dad aren’t half the fashion forward people the media think they are. I already have your suit ready and waiting, as well as an entire wardrobe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Elia, you really are too much.” His mum laughed softly, before leaning down to kiss her wife’s forehead. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m pretty tired from my flight, I’m gonna go and freshen up, and I’ll see you at dinner?” He knew it wasn’t a question, but he knew it was best to check. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, little crow, we’ll see you at dinner.” His mum replied fondly, messing up his hair before he could duck away from her hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the solace of his room, he let out the breath he’d had bated since Aunt Daenerys had first shown up at his campus. He checked his phone, and quickly texted Satin about the predicament he was in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, he remembered he really ought to message Tormund. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Hi. It’s me. Jon Snow. I’m still alive. Thank you for helping my aunt. </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As he put his phone down to get undressed the reply pinged almost instantly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Oh thank the gods, I was ready to mount an expedition with Ygritte 2 come and get u so u can come home!</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That made him smile, and he shook his head with a little laugh. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>You can call off the rescue mission, my parents are happy to see me. My mothers are formidable and my dad knows he can’t argue with them and win. It’s too warm down here, though. I’m used to the north now. </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Thats because u’ve got wolf blood just like Mance. I’ve got bear blood and giant blood because my ancestor shagged a giant with red hair </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>My ancestors had dragons. If anything, I’m a snow dragon. Not a wolf. </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>If u were a dragon i think i would shag you for the family honour of shagging unshaggable things</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Now that made Jaehaerys pause for a moment, his cheeks flushing red. He quickly set his phone down and started to get changed out of his clothes, and into his fineries of home. A crisp dark red shirt, and black suit trousers hung on his wardrobe door waiting for him. He stood in his jeans, looking at himself in the mirror for a moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Last time he’d been there, he was very different. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was slim, but was more solid than before. His hair was shoulder length where it had previously been to his hips. His eyes were dark but still purple, and always had been dark. His face was no longer as soft and rounded, but more the familial squared chin, sharper jawline. A small beard, that he was proud of growing in the space of three years. But most important difference? He liked what he saw in the mirror now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His phone pinged again a few times, and he forced himself to look. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>I was joking I dont think ur unshaggable. Ur very shaggable</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Unless the issue is that u prefer women to men?</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>I like both so im not judging or anything</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sorry i made this awkward? I dont know about talking 2 pretty boys or shit</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Sorry I had to sort out some stuff in my room. My mama bought me some new clothes that she wanted me to try on before the funeral. But I prefer men, so I’m not offended in the slightest. It’s not awkward. Don’t worry. And thanks for calling me pretty. </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Okay, he lied to Tormund. But It was awkward regardless of what he said. Sure, Tormund said he was Bi, and said he was ‘shaggable’. But....Well, when people found out that he was trans, it was a little more difficult to date. But calling him pretty? Well… He was feeling a little bold. He lay back on the huge four poster bed that had been his for most of his life, the luxurious black sheets feeling almost alien to him now. He was still shirtless, but whatever. If Tormund thought he was pretty, then...Then he could have a picture. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jaehaerys carefully positioned his phone to take the selfie of him sprawled out on his bed. Showing off just how big it was. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>[ATTACHMENT: 1 IMAGE]</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>The capital is weird to me now. I’ve been gone for so long that this feels too big, and too fancy. I miss Eastwatch. In Eastwatch I was just Jon Snow. Here I have to be Jaehaerys Targaryen. I’ll message you later, I have to go to dinner with my family. </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With that, he dressed himself and headed down to the ‘small’ dining room. Every room in the Palace was ridiculously large, and the family dining room was the same size as his whole apartment in Eastwatch. Walking past the portraits of all the ancient Targaryens, he could feel the weight of history pressing down on him. He stopped in front of the Blackfyre portrait, eyes lingering on the famous dark dragons. He wondered if he would ever be infamous like they were, a dark dragon who shook things in Westeros to the core. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, being so lost in his thoughts was an occupational hazard, especially when he walked straight into the back of Aegon. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow. Rhaenys wasn’t joking. You really do look like if dad had an emo phase. I can’t promise I’ll get it right all the time, because well...Nya was the right nickname in revenge for Egg.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You could always call me hairy. Jaehaerys. And I have more facial hair than you and dad combined? Hairy and Egg is pretty terrible.”  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aegon snickered at that, and patted his shoulder. “Or I can continue to call you shortstop. Imagine being shorter than Rhaenys and I. Ah, our teeny tiny baby brother.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The short comments was always a source of teasing, but he could tolerate it, since he knew he could be much shorter than 5’6. His mother was only 5’3 after all. His little cousin Arya was 5’1. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaehaerys just rolled his eyes, and stepped into the dining room before Aegon could get another word in edgeways.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dinner was nice. It was nice being back with his family where he belonged, and it was nice. He almost forgot about missing Eastwatch. They ate, and drank wine until his head was a little fuzzy from drinking. And then he stumbled his way back to his room, Aunt Dany close behind him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” She asked, sitting down graciously on his bed, despite her slight drunken wobble. He smiled, finally looking at his phone for the first time in hours as he moved to lie on his stomach, and she quickly followed suit, shoulder to shoulder with him, playfully kicking his leg. “Oh, is that your handsome ginger friend?” She teased, leaning over to look at his phone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>need some company ;))) ur bed looks huge</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Ygritte saw the pic and wants u 2 send her topless pics too but i said theyre special for me since i rescued u</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>bet ur bed is softer than a milfs tits </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>[ATTACHMENT: 1 IMAGE]</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jae nearly yelped when his aunt snagged the phone off of him, opening the picture right away. Her eyes went wide and she gave him a </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have to date him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Show me the phone or I’ll take yours and find your husband-to-be’s nudes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once Daenerys set the phone down between them, he leant forward, blinking a couple of times. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tormund had taken a selfie freshly showered, his hair sticking to his face, beard smoothed down. And he was shirtless. His chest was covered in ginger hair, but fuck, those muscles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I weren’t engaged I would try him myself. But you should do it. Go for it. He’s hot. Sooo hot.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Most people would think it’s weird that my aunt is telling me to do this, but being the same age...I suppose I can take your terrible advice just this once. Perhaps.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Nice picture. And yes, the pictures of me are special for you, but I don’t remember you rescuing me.</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>in ur first year u passed out in the pub when satin went off with some guy so i carried u back 2 ur halls</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>I remember the aftermath of that, but I didn’t remember it happening. Thank you for rescuing me, truly. I’ll have to repay you with more pictures. </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Daenerys grinned at his reply, before smothering her giggles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Smooth. I’ll leave you to repay him in pictures, shall I?” She teased, his cheeks reddening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No! I wasn’t going to take anything risqué! I was just going to send him another selfie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Send him a picture of you in that shirt, it’s flattering.” She suggested. With a nod, he clumsily stood and went to the mirror, looking himself over. He pulled out his phone, still a little self conscious as he posed for the picture. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now tilt your head a little to the right.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed, shaking his head before obliging. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmm...Now take a picture squatting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no. Trust me.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With a heavy sigh, he once more obliged Daenerys and did as she suggested, before heading back to the bed with the pictures. She took the phone from him, and flicked through the images before grinning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>[ATTACHMENT: 3 IMAGES]</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaehaerys quickly scrambled to take the phone back from her, but the damage was done. She’d sent the 3 best selfies straight to Torumund.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re welcome.” Her voice was dry enough that he knew she was mentally deciding he was being a fool. Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Show me your husband-to-be at least.” He sighed, acutely aware of the fact that his phone had no response yet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that, her face lit up and she started to get her phone out, before she paused. “We need more wine. Hold the fort, I’ll be back. White or Rosé?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rosé.” He replied, knowing she would get white anyway. She preferred white wine and in her drunken state she would forget he said rosé. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watched as she climbed off of the bed and stumbled out of the room. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>showing off are we? im not complaining tho because u look good but that suit must cost more than my house </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>i like u in ur normal outfits more but thats a rare treat </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaehaerys could feel his cheeks heating up, and he re-read the messages a few times before Dany came back, and he let his phone stay locked as she passed him a bottle, not bothering with glasses for her own. He was genuinely surprised that she remembered his rosé, but with that encouragement, they started drinking as they looked over the photos of her fiancé.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s….Huge?” Jaehaerys commented, realising the extreme size difference. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yes. Very huge.” She grinned knowingly. He spluttered, and elbowed her. “Oh don’t be a prude, we haven’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>done</span>
  </em>
  <span> anything. Well, anything that involves his dick going in me. He wants to save it for our wedding night. Not that it’s stopped us trying...other things.” She added.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He swatted at her gently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a menace. So much for the noble king’s sister, pure and chaste. You’re fourth in line for the throne, remember? Behave yourself.” Of course, he didn’t mean anything beyond a light ribbing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well have you even kissed a man since you went to university?” She asked, cocking a brow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not what we’re talking about! It isn’t becoming of a prince to kiss and tell, you know.” He replied, waving away her judgemental stare. “Besides, what man would want to be with someone like me? Not many. I’ve tried a few dating apps when I was in my second year. Nobody wanted someone complicated.” It wasn’t in his nature to avoid moping, so he had gladly moped about for weeks after rejection after rejection stung him. Even his beloved best friend Sam had found a girl, and settled down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well when you go back you should go on a date with your giant.” She decided, grabbing his phone again. He sighed, trying to grab it back. “Ice cannot kill a dragon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fire cannot kill a dragon, you must be drunk for you to forget that.” He muttered, still trying to wrest the phone back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She laughed, tugging on the phone. They both went still as the sound of his phone ringing buzzed between them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh no. She grinned, jumping away from the bed with the phone on speaker as Tormund’s familiar voice answered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wasn’t expectin’ you to call so fast, crow.” He greeted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no it’s not Ja- Jon. It’s Daenerys, remember me?” She replied in a singsong voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh aye, her royal snowball. Why are you callin’ from his phone?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should take him on a date when he comes back from the capital. He thinks you’re very hot.” She informed Tormund, mischief glinting in her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No- Daenerys! Give me back my phone!” He yelped, scrambling over the bed to try and catch her, wine spilling onto the floor as he did so. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no, wine.” She whined as he grabbed the phone away from her. Then he ran to his walk-in bathroom, locking the door before she could come in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“-llo? Ello?” Tormund could clearly be heard chuckling through the phone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi. Sorry. My aunt who is my age is </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> drunk and thought she would play matchmaker because she’s getting married soon and thinks I should have a date for her wedding.” He quickly lied, doing his best to create an excuse that could sound less… pathetic than being wingmanned by his own aunt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh aye? Me at a wedding? Fancy that. I could go in my full biker leathers. How’s that sound?” Tormund’s voice was full of mirth, and Jaehaerys could feel his face warming up at the idea. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well… I’m sure it looks really good. I’d need to approve of it first though.” Okay, maybe the wine was helping him feel a little cocky. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shame she only meant for a wedding, I bet you’d be up for my idea of a real date.” He didn’t even need to see Tormund’s face to imagine those familiar ginger eyebrows wiggling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what is your idea of a real date, then?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Riding out to the frozen waterfalls late at night, watching the meteor showers. Then drinking some beers once we’re back, to warm up. Maybe even some of gaff’s moonshine, the real old school fun. The best way t’ enjoy yourself is free.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was quiet a moment, smiling at the idea. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well...I suppose I am amenable to a real date. When I’m home from the capital. I’ll let you go now, Tormund. No need to keep you longer than necessary.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright, I like listening to y’ talk. You sound like you know what yer talkin’ about most of the time.” Tormund replied, and the honesty was pretty clear in his voice. Huh. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dany chose that moment to start banging on the door, whining for him to let her in because she felt sick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I uh, need to go make sure she doesn’t puke on my bed. Sorry.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“G’night Jon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Goodnight Tormund.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And he was glad he hung up and opened the door when he did, because Daenerys pushed past him and straight to the toilet, her diminutive frame heaving into it. He grimaced, and moved to pull her hair back out of the way, braiding it for her while she continued to heave. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I sleep in here tonight?” She asked, once her sickness eased. He nodded, and passed her a little glass of water to rinse her mouth with. “I...It’s weird. My brain still doesn’t acknowledge he’s gone.” She admitted to him quietly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He understood, and rubbed her back softly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once they were tucked up in bed, she wriggled closer, and sighed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hated him so much. So, so much. But now he’s gone I don’t...I don’t know if I should feel sad. He was so vile. He blamed me for my father’s death, all because the car accident happened while he was driving to see my birth. I wasn’t even alive and he blamed me…” She whispered. All their lives, they’d been raised almost as twins, mere weeks apart in age. He nodded again, and squeezed her gently. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>One night when they were about 6, he remembered walking in on Viserys slapping Daenerys across the face for spilling her juice on the table. After that day, he’d been sent to boarding school, because he’d grabbed Dany and they’d run to his mum. Dany had insisted it wasn’t a big deal, but when Aegon had heard that Dany got hurt he had run straight to Viserys and ripped a chunk of his hair out. And that had settled it. Peace for the royal family was paramount. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad he’s gone. He was a vile, twisted worm and he didn’t make anyone happy. He was horrid to you.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah...Thanks Jae. You’re the best brother I have.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The funeral itself was quiet, no cameras or press allowed inside, instead there was an official livestream broadcast by Stannis Baratheon’s media company, the concession of the king letting his cousin have involvement to show he wasn’t against his entire extended family. Everything was plotted politically, down to the last stand of hair. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Among the mourners was Margaery Tyrell, who had been Viserys 'girlfriend’ for a while now. She wasn’t at all interested in him, but he was a stepping stone towards other members of the family. She had her head bowed, a black veil covering her delicate face. If Jaehaerys didn’t know any better, he would have suspected her or her conniving grandmother of being behind it. But he did know better, of course. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a sidelong look at Daenerys at the other end of the pew, he saw the tall man standing beside her, his clothing and appearance clearly foreign but so beautiful in his own way. So this was the man who killed Viserys for being vile and racist and utterly un-princely. Well, there were worse reasons to kill a man than violating the honour of a Dothraki lord and being an overall horrid person. Dany seemed pleased that her husband was here, leaning as close to him as she could within the realms of sensibile public displays of affection. She was good at acting sad, like she hadn’t wanted such a terrible accident to befall him. The official story was that he’d had a terrible riding accident, and died after a fall. Tragedies happen all the time with Dothraki horses, right? A kick to the head was all it took. A buck from a horse too strong for the rider. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon’s face was just buried in his leather bound copy of The Seven’s Light, the prayers meaning nothing to him as he let the words swim together on the page. He wanted this to be done with, he wanted to let the wake be done with, barely brush elbows with anyone, and return to where he belonged. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It passed in a blur, and eventually he watched as the coffin was carried from the Sept, mourners lining the streets on either side to watch their prince go to his final resting place. There would be a traditional pyre in the dragonpits, the journey was long enough that most smallfolk would be able to leave their tokens of respect, and get a good look at the Royal Family. They would be riding in carriages to the dragonpit, the king and his two queens in the first carriage, then Daenerys, her husband, and Dany’s personal guard, Ser Barristan. The final carriage would be held back for the crown princess and her siblings. The king’s children. Of course the whole kingdom would know what it meant when he climbed in. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Rhaenys climbed in first, then Aegon, and finally.. It was his turn. He hopped into the carriage, more than aware of all the faces on his solemn face. He tried his best to school himself into a look of sadness, like his genuinely sad siblings. Rhaenys looked resplendent in her silver coronet, her skin making it gleam all the more in comparison to her natural dark beauty. Aegon matched him almost identically, where Aegon wore a black suit with a Martell orange waistcoat, Jon wore a black suit with a Stark grey waistcoat. The commentary was played over the speakers, with Stannis Baratheon himself describing the scenes for those too far away to see overhead. It would also be broadcast on the radio, and on TV. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And now, the first royal carriage is departing the Sept of Baelor, carrying His Majesty, King Rhaegar, Her Serene Highness, Princess Elia of Dorne, and Her Majesty Queen Lyanna.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Stannis was a stickler for propriety, and insisted on addressing Elia as her first title, as a Princess in her own right, as she was Dornish royalty and always would be. It was important that all three be read in the correct order, so nobody would assume one wife had more power over the other. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The second royal carriage is departing the Sept of Baelor, carrying Her Royal Highness, Princess Daenerys, Khal Drogo of Vaes Dothrak, in Essos, and Ser Barristan Selmy of the Kingsguard. Khal Drogo is due to marry Princess Daenerys after the appropriate mourning period.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Well, at least he would explain who Drogo was, and where he came from. The smallfolk would enjoy the prospect of a royal wedding in the future. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The final royal carriage is departing the Sept of Baelor, carrying Her Royal Highness Crown, Princess Rhaenys, His Royal Highness, Prince Aegon, and His Royal Highness, Prince Jaehaerys.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon held his breath as he listened to the crowd murmur, before a few people called out to the various members of the royal family once the procession was underway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“May the gods let Viserys soul rest well!” One member of the crowd called out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gods save the king!” Another called. “Princess Daenerys! I wish you a long and happy marriage!” “Rhaenys, I love you!” “Long live Jaehaerys!” “Prince Aegon, I am sorry for your loss!” “We will miss Prince Viserys!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The smallfolk felt an attachment to the royal family, because they belonged to the people. He was surprised that someone called out to him, though. He couldn’t identify the wellwisher in the crowd, but offered a small wave, as did his siblings. It was protocol to interact as best they could with the smallfolk, to ensure public opinion stayed positive. After his grandfather King Aerys nearly incited a revolt against the royal family, it was essential they were all beloved. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The journey continued very much the same, Stannis’ droning voice describing the scenes for the general public, his boring energy made it certain this would be seen as far from scandalous. Very wise of his mama to do that. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, they reached the dragonpit, where the casket would be burnt. Many noble families, lords and ladies of many different holdings came, and Jon could make out the Lannisters, the Velaryons, the Martells- his uncle Doran had even made the journey, Tyrell, Arryn, Frey, Tarly, Redwyne, Connington, Tarth, Dondarrion, Dayne, Tarbeck… And those were only the families he could make out. As he climbed out of the carriage, his eyes met with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> angry familiar pair of grey eyes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Arya had come down to the funeral too, obviously forced to come to visit. Jon looked up to see his uncles and their families. His uncle Eddard and aunt Cat smiled sadly at him with a little nod of acknowledgement, while his uncle Brandon and aunt Ashara only had eyes for his mama. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Breaking in custom, Jon stepped away from the entourage, and reached over the barriers to scoop Arya over the offending barriers, and into a warm hug. It would be popular with the smallfolk, he reasoned with himself, if he was ever asked about it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She bunched her fists in his suit and growled quietly. “You’re stupid. Why do I have to only be able to see you at stupid fancy events? You’re supposed to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> cousin so I can see you when I want to.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jon bit back the urge to laugh, and lightly bumped their heads together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Arya, I promise I haven’t been hiding from you. I’ve just been at school.” He murmured. “I promise we can travel home together, okay? I’ll sit with you for the entire ride back North.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You better, or I’ll… I’ll never talk to you for five years.” She threatened, before letting him guide her towards where the rest of his family stood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go and hold my mum’s hand. She’ll be glad for you.” He suggested quietly, and the little teenager scurried over to her almost clone. Jon watched as his mum gently wrapped an arm around Arya, pressing a fond kiss to the girl’s head. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Now for the burning. Jon closed his eyes, steeling his nerves. The first burning arrow was fired by his father from a pre-prepared ceremonial burner. It hit the base of the pyre, and began to burn. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Next, the crown princess would have to fire. Rhaenys took up her own bow, and fired. The shot was straight and true, a little higher up, and a little more fire danced around the casket. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, it was Daenerys’ turn. She stepped up, and with trembling arms lifted her bow. She wouldn’t make the shot, Jon knew that much. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looked around quickly, before meeting Drogo’s eyes, and glanced back to her quickly. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Help her’</span>
  </em>
  <span> was all he could try to convey, and the large Khal strode over, gently pressing his body against Dany’s, helping her draw back the bowstring with his guiding grip. In a beautiful arc, the arrow sailed through the air, hitting the top of the coffin. Jon was more than certain the arrow would be piercing some part of that vile worm’s body. Good. He would be burnt away to nothing but ash, and the ash would be thrown into the sea. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was glad that Dany had someone who would be strong for her when she needed them to be, so that she could be strong later. Her tormentor and abuser was gone, burning to nothing. But the harm to her heart wouldn’t be so easily removed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fire couldn’t kill a dragon, but a broken neck certainly could. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---------- </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The wake at the Red Keep was a quiet affair, many morose faces gave his father their condolences. A few people gave Daenerys congratulations, of course. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jon resisted the urge to bristle when Joffrey Lannister strode up to him as if he owned the joint and said very loudly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I much preferred you as a girl.” As if he had any say in the matter. He was forced to bite his tongue and just turned away from the jumped up little shit. Snide little worm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, he wasn’t so easily deterred. Unused to being told no, it seemed, because his hand wrapped around Jon’s arm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you still have tits under there? I bet you look rather weird naked.” His voice was getting louder and shriller as he tried to make a mockery of the prince. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as he opened his mouth to speak again, Arya swept over in her dress and feigned a fall, smashing her glass against his chest, and then rubbed her hand to press the glass in for good measure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joffrey squealed like a little girl at the pain, while Arya just made eye contact with her favourite cousin, raising an eyebrow. Jon knew an out when he saw one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh dear, do excuse us. I need to attend my cousin’s injury.” Jon said curtly, turning away from where red was starting to bleed through the arrogant shit’s shirt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about me?! I’m bleeding! Mother! Mother, I’m bleeding!” The bratty blond shouted, but Jon was already across the room, heading out of the hall entirely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You owe me twice over now.” Arya told him sternly. He just laughed and nodded, taking her to one of the more private rooms of the Keep to wash the glass out of her hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I know. I’ll let you come and stay with me at Eastwatch, how about that?” He offered. “You can see the real north.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She deliberated before nodding. “Can I bring Shireen?” She asked as an afterthought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shireen? Baratheon?” He asked, raising a brow. Her cheeks flushed a little, and she set her jaw petulantly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. Obviously. She’s my girlfriend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Arya, you’re 16, you’re not old enough to be worrying about girlfriends.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jon.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Arya.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine! But next time you </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to let me bring her!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, alright. Next time you can bring your girlfriend.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nobody else knows.” She said after a moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you for telling me. I’m glad you’re not too angry at me to tell me about her.” Jon smiled, ruffling her hair. “Explains the very gay bob cut.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That obvious?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Arya, you couldn’t be discrete if it were to save your life.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they returned to the wake, the Lannister party were all but gone, save for Tyrion. Much to Jon’s relief. His aunt and uncle approached him with the intentions of scolding Arya, it seemed, because she pressed herself as far behind him as she could go. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Someone tells me that Joffrey Lannister had to leave because </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span> crushed a glass on him. And as he left, someone else tripped him up.” His uncle started, waiting for a response from Arya. She, naturally let out a defiant sigh and crossed her arms over her chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I came to this funeral in a stupid dress because you asked me to. Anything else is collateral damage.” She replied, meeting her parent’s gaze angrily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She was defending me. Don’t blame her.” Jon quickly interjected, before his aunt could admonish Arya. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Defending you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, uncle. Joffrey was being rather… vile. So Arya took matters into her own hands.” He insisted, one hand on Arya’s elbow to stop her from running off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And Rickon suggested that he could trip the arseling over, but it was nothing to do with me!” Arya added, explaining the tripping. How did she even have time to coordinate that? It was times like these he was glad not to be a Stark by name, though. The icy fury in his aunt Cat’s eyes was something he’d certainly shrink away from. Of course, that was the exact moment his mum swooped in, fussing over Arya’s hand before greeting her good-sister and favourite brother. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh Arya, your hand! Did my brat Jaehaerys fix this up for you? I’d know his wrapping anywhere, Elia taught him but he’s a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> careful and tucks the ends away far too neatly for anyone’s use.” She turned Arya’s hand over in hers before glancing over to Jon with a little wink. He smiled sheepishly, and then watched as she turned to throw herself at Uncle Ned with a lunge, holding him in a tight hug. Obviously she was saying something to make sure Arya would avoid trouble. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Catelyn, it’s so lovely to see you. You’re looking well.” His mum finally, said, pulling the usually stoic woman into a squeezing hug. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re very sorry for your loss. It’s hard to lose such a young family member.” Aunt Cat said, patting her back awkwardly. Jon knew for a fact that she was given those hugs specifically to make her feel uncomfortable. Damn propriety, and all that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jon took the opportunity to duck away, already tired of all the curious eyes on him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulled his phone out, reading through the flurry of messages.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>U look very fancy </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>bet that suit cost a small fortune</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>will u be staying there even longer??? Ygritte wants 2 roast u about how ur hairs tied up</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>oh wow u really do look just like your dad thats weird </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>holy fuck that guys huge i bet hes as big as i am i would love to fight him</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>am i annoying u? ill shut up now</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That made him smile, reading over the texts that had been waiting. He hadn’t even considered that the rest of the nation had come to a halt for a royal funeral, but it made sense he supposed. Even though Viserys meant nothing in the long run. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>No, no it’s fine. I just can’t pull my phone out because I had to be Jaehaerys Targaryen, not Jon Snow. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Thank you for the commentary though it makes this a little less mundane and boring for me. I want to come home and forget all about this. I had to promise my cousin she could come and visit me at home, because she was so angry at me for vanishing. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>i knew u wouldnt mind it u have the patience of a saint lol </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>when will u be home? i can come and get u on the bike if u like</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To: Tormund </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Two days time. I’ll probably have to come back again soon though. My father thinks it would be good to split up the inheritances equally and do with it what we will. I want to donate all of my share, I don’t want that worm’s money. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>u r too good for this world u noble fool. but dont u go giving it all away just cus you think u should. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>I could pay for your whole apartment building to be fixed up from top to bottom with a fraction of this. Don’t tempt me by calling me a noble fool, Giantsbane. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>now theres a thought. a lot of families would benefit from that. i wouldnt stop u</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Thanks. For messaging me. It means a lot that I don’t have to feel so out of place here. I’ll message you again later after the stupid fancy dinner. </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Tormund</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>dont worry little crow i would never leave u stuck with those dobbers and ur own thoughts &lt;3</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His cheeks flushed at the little loveheart, and almost missed the sound of a familiar wheelchair approaching. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who are you texting, my sweetling?” Came the sound of his mama’s voice, and he quickly spun around, putting his phone away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No one. A friend.” Jon quickly answered, clearing his throat slightly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this the </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend</span>
  </em>
  <span> that Dany told me about? I hear he's very handsome, almost as tall as Drogo, and very respectful.” She raised a brow, and he ducked his head, smiling a little sheepishly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s just a friend. For now. But yes. He’s almost as tall as Drogo. And he’s afraid of Daenerys.” He chuckled, hands stuffed in his pockets. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you didn’t care for Viserys. Truth be told, neither did I. But for your mum and dad’s sake, we can put on a sad face for now. You’ll be sitting beside Drogo for dinner tonight, so he won’t be accused of any impropriety with your aunt. And then you can go back to the cold north and try not to be a prince for a little while longer. But, my love. You will have to go on a tour around Westeros once your studies are done. If you’re married by then, all the better for your public image.” She leant up out of her chair to straighten his lapels a little. “Now, let’s go and find those tearaway siblings of yours.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Fun fact: In my head Elia looks like Sushmita Sen, and Rhaenys looks like Alia Bhatt (She has something in her face that reminds me of Emilia Clarke)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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